Page 9

Bella

Ghost succeeded in coming after me instead.

He killed Angel.

And destroyed all our lives before they even got started.

My mind’s still awash with all those less than pleasant memories as Rogue parks the car in front of a four-story building with large dark windows and a parking lot full of Harleys, vans and pickups—none of which are beat-up.

The compound is enclosed by a tall wall that makes me feel safe and isolated at the same time.

The door of the clubhouse is open and soft rock music washes over me as I exit the van. Blade gives me a reassuring smile and squeezes my arm on his way to the back of the van to get my bags.

I just stand there, enjoying the warm, almost fresh air on my face, realizing I missed my hometown more than I thought I did.

Or more than I’ve thought about in years.

There’s just something about the soft warmth here than makes people softer too.

Maybe it’s the harsh winters and sweltering summer that make people in New York so hard and mean.

“You can leave those in the van, Blade,” Rogue says. “She’s not staying here.”

So much for people here being soft and not mean.

“Ghost almost killed me too, you know,” I say, shuddering in the sudden cold that memory brings. I’ve packed it so far down into the bottom of my mind I hardly think of it anymore and got some therapy to deal with it in prison, but despite all that it’s front and center in my mind again.

The terrifying realization that I’d trusted the wrong person.

That he won’t be stopping the car to let me out.

The cold, dank basement of a theatre he kept me locked up in.

The theatre where Angel died trying to save me.

Where she screamed and I couldn’t do anything to help her.

The chains cutting into my wrists as I tried.

The shakes and the nausea and the hallucinations as my addiction to heroin finally loosed its hold on me.

Just in time so I could be wholly sober and present for the worst days of my life.

“Are you OK, Bella?” Blade asks quietly, standing between me and Rogue.

His warm brown eyes are so invitingly warm, so perfectly safe, so kind.

It was him I was trying to save when I got into Ghost’s car.

And I failed at that too. That’s what hurt the most in the beginning.

Before other things started hurting. But none of those hurt worse than the thought that I failed to save him.

“Come on, you need a drink,” Blade says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “And Rogue needs to chill the fuck out.”

Rogue seems shocked into silence as Blade starts leading me towards the pleasant rock music, dragging one of my suitcases behind him.

I hope it’s the one with my clothes and not one of the ones with my art supplies.

It took me next to no time packing up all my possessions to come back here with him.

Just like it took me no time to pack when I was forced to leave ten years ago.

I hate that I still feel just as unwanted and unloved as I did back then.

But wrapping my arms around Blade’s waist helps. Just like it always does.

The large room beyond the front door is filled with tables and sofas, a large bar counter dominating one end and a couple of gleaming black pool tables the other.

All the people inside turn to look at us as we enter, even the music fading to a dull hum as the tense silence grows.

I recognize three people in there-Creed, Bianca, and Trinity.

I’ve known them since I was a toddler. They’re all somehow the same, yet completely different.

And I can’t tell if they’re happy to see me or not.

“Bella, welcome home!” a guy with a raspy voice and tattoos covering most of his neck exclaims, suddenly towering before me. I don’t recognize his voice, hardly know his face, but I’d know those brilliant blue eyes anywhere.

“Zane,” I say and let go of Blade so I can give him a hug. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Zane was the first crush of practically all the girls in our grade at school. I doubt many would feel the same way seeing him now. Or maybe they would. He’s rocking the bad boy vibe hard.

“He goes by Unholy now,” Blade says roughly and I hear that possessiveness in his voice that never fails to make me feel safe and wanted.

That and Zane’s warm welcome are finally starting to make me feel like maybe I do belong here.

Because this is the only place I ever belonged, with these people, my oldest friends in the world, and if I don’t belong here, where do I belong?

“Unholy?” I ask as I let Zane go. “Because of the priest thing?”

He grins and nods. “That and a whole lot more after that. Blade doesn’t think I should be here.”

“And Rogue doesn’t think I should be. So we have that in common,” I say and we grin at each other.

I’m fairly certain Blade’s arm around my shoulders is about more than just wanting my pleasant reunion with Zane to not get any pleasanter. He wants them all to accept me here, welcome me, let me stay.

“I didn’t say I don’t want you here,” Rogue says as he appears at my side. “I’m just saying it could get dangerous for all of us if you stay.”

He cringes like that’s more than he wanted to say. Behind him, Bianca, Creed and Trinity have come over to say hello, but now they’ve all stopped dead in their tracks—probably reacting to the shock that must be on my face at hearing that.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, suddenly very breathless. “What danger?”

Blade holds me tighter, his eyes and whole face hard as he stares at Rogue. “This is not the time.”

Rogue nods. “You’re right.”

The next thing I know, Bianca gives me a huge hug, followed by Trinity. Creed just nods at me in his stoic fashion.

“I am glad you’re back,” Bianca says. “And we’re gonna celebrate. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

Her voice carries the kind of command I’d never expect to hear come from her mouth.

And what’s more, they all seem more than willing to obey it.

All that’s left of the soft-spoken girl I went to school with is her gorgeous platinum blonde hair.

But even that is all braided up in the style of some female warrior.

Not to mention the leather pants and tank top and the tattoo covered arms. I don’t know if I’d recognize her in the street.

Or Trinity for that matter, her jet-black hair shaved on the sides and arms just as covered by tats as Bianca’s. They’re sporting some very nice ink, but I could make it even nicer. I hope they’ll let me.

I’m so engrossed by imagining all the beautiful things I could paint on their bodies that I hardly notice being sat down at one of the larger tables in the room and having a beer placed in front of me, the condensation forming tiny beads on the bottle.

“I think a Coke would be better,” I say, my voice cracking and my heartbeat picking up as they all stare at me.

In their eyes I see the same identical look they used to give me back when I liked experimenting with heroin a little too much.

And later when I could no longer hide my addiction from anyone, no matter how much I denied it.

“Yeah, I’ll get it,” Creed says, recovering first.

I look around the room, smiling, trying to shake the memory of the darkest part of our past.

“So this is your new digs?” I say. “Very nice. Much nicer than that abandoned warehouse your MC started out in.”

And there I go bringing all that past darkness right back into the room. Like an idiot. Now even Blade looks uncomfortable.

But my name is Isabella Rovina after all. Rovina means Ruin in Italian. I’ve proven just how well that name suits me many times over in my life. And gave a hint of it once again just now.

I grab the bottle of Coke that Creed hands me and drink almost all of it in one go, ignoring the scratching pain in my throat and the tears it brings to my eyes.

“Yeah, we’ve moved up some,” Bianca says. “In more ways than one.”

“Oh, yeah? Tell me all about it,” I say as eagerly as my closed-up throat allows.

“Well, we’re a proper MC now, for one thing,” she says. “And I’m the Sarge… I mean, the Sergeant at Arms.”

That must be where that command in her voice and demeanor comes from.

"I actually go by Alice now… that’s my road name,” she adds.

“Like that movie you used to like so much?” I ask. “What was it? Alice Isn’t Here Anymore, or something?”

She smiles. “It’s ‘Alice Does’t Live Here Anymore,’ but close enough.

And yeah, you’re right. I chose it because I left all of the old me behind when I joined the MC.

I never thought I’d slip into being a Sarge so easily, but here I am.

And I love how we’ve been able to help so many people. I’ve definitely found my calling”

And she really has. She comes from a very wealthy, non-mafia family and had it all. But she was always very quiet and shy in school, mostly staying in the background and keeping her head down. So I guess she had it all except the chance to be herself. I’m glad she found that here, in this MC.

“But I’m sure Blade’s told you all about that,” she adds, glancing at him and grinning.

He shakes his head, looking a little embarrassed. “We didn’t talk about the club much, to be honest.”

This time it’s him grinning at me and me blushing.

What we did a lot was hold hands and kiss, cuddle and reconnect with everything that made us us , made us perfect together, back then and now.

And no, we didn’t talk much about home, because we weren’t sure how welcome I’d be here and by extension, whether it was still home at all. But I don’t need to go there now.

“He did tell me you’re still catching bad guys and making them pay,” I say, looking around the table.